


ivy walls can't keep me in

by bringyouhometoo



Category: Lizzie Bennet Diaries, Welcome to Sanditon
Genre: Angst, Family Feels, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Post-Series, Siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-16
Updated: 2015-10-16
Packaged: 2018-04-26 16:33:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5011876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bringyouhometoo/pseuds/bringyouhometoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s after ten on Friday night, and if Gigi were back home she might be getting ready to go out with the girls she stayed in touch with after graduating, or crashing one of Fitz’s boyfriend’s super-trendy parties, or having after-dinner drinks with William and his work friends. Or doing anything other than drinking a solitary glass of wine in her empty apartment.</p><p>She hasn’t lived alone in a long time; ever, really, unless you count the months between starting college and meeting –</p><p>She hasn’t really lived alone, ever.</p><p>(Or: Gigi, and a few days in the summer after she moves to Sanditon.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	ivy walls can't keep me in

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thelittlestbird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelittlestbird/gifts).



> So this has been a long tome coming. Thelittlestbird had a LOVELY Gigi-centric prompt, and various versions of this story have existed for months now... And then I read The Epic Adventures of Lydia Bennet a couple of weeks ago, and got all my LBD-verse mojo back. Enjoy!
> 
> (tw: there are mentions of canon past abuse.)
> 
> (Set after Welcome to Sanditon, but does not fit into Epic Adventures of Lydia Bennet canon)

It’s late by the time Gigi gets home from the Mayor’s office, late enough that the coffee shop on the corner has closed for the day and she’s missed her chance to pick up the ham and mushroom croissant she’s been looking forward to all day. Stomach rumbling slightly, she makes her way up to the empty apartment, mentally going through what’s in her kitchen – a jar of pasta sauce, probably some bread, maybe a packet of rice, _she really needs to go shopping_ – and already considering ordering in.

Gigi unlocks the door, calls out a perfunctory “Hi!” into the silence – and then quickly switches on all the lights, before she gets too weirded out by the echoing lack of a response.

Three weeks.

It’s been three weeks – not even three weeks, technically, more like two and a half – since she moved out of her hotel room and into her own place. Not that it feels like _hers_ yet. She’s put up a few prints and posters, and added her own cushions to the living room, and Clara took her shopping for pots, pans, and a couple of house plants – but it still feels _new_ , unlived-in. And lonely.

Gigi pours herself a glass of wine, and flicks on the radio – a vintage-looking stereo that had been Ed’s housewarming gift, and now sits slightly awkwardly on the window ledge in the kitchen. Some bass-heavy dance track fills the room, totally jarring in the quiet; it’s after ten on Friday night, and if she were back home she might be getting ready to go out with the girls she stayed in touch with after graduating, or crashing one of Fitz’s boyfriend’s super-trendy parties, or having after-dinner drinks with William and his work friends. Or doing _anything_ other than drinking a solitary glass of wine in her empty apartment.

She hasn’t lived alone in a long time; ever, really, unless you count the months between starting college and meeting –

She hasn’t really lived alone, ever.

*

Lizzie picks up on the third ring.

“Gigi?” she sounds surprised, and Gigi can’t blame her; as friendly as they are, they’ve not really reached late-night phone call levels of close. “Hey!”

“Hi, Lizzie,” Gigi says, twisting a strand of hair around one finger. “How are you?”

“I’m…good,” Lizzie pauses, then clears her throat. “Were you trying to reach Will?”

 _Will._ Even in her self-pitying spiral, Gigi has to bite back a smile. Her brother’s never, _ever_ let anyone call him anything other than William.

“No. _No,_ he’ll just – worry – I was looking for – I mean I wanted to speak – I mean…” she forces herself to take a breath, all-too-aware of her tendency to garble. “Is now a good time?”

There is a short pause, and then she hears a faint rustling, as though Lizzie is settling herself down on a couch, ready to listen. “Sure, Gigi,” Lizzie says, her voice taking on a gentler tone; it’s a subtle shift, and one that Gigi can only categorise as _big-sisterly_. “Is everything alright?”

“I’m fine,” Gigi says automatically, then rolls her eyes at herself. _Great start, Darcy_.         

“Okay…” Lizzie sounds perplexed. “What did you want to talk about? More _math_? Your brother and I are getting on just fine without any more scheming, you know that, right?”

“It’s nothing like that,” Gigi says, laughing despite herself. “I just, um. Miss home?”

“Oh, Gigi…”

“I wanted to stay here,” she rushes on, before Lizzie can read too much into things – because she did, and she _does_ , want to stay in Sanditon. “It’s great, I love my job, and I really love the town, it’s just – different, you know? Living on my own. I’ve not really done that, ever, and it’s a Friday night and I only _just_ got home, and there’s no one here, and it’s not like I can just go out, there’s nowhere to _go_ on my own, and I’ve got nothing to eat here, and it’s late, and I –“

“Gigi,” Lizzie cuts in, sounding faintly alarmed. “Breathe.”

Gigi takes in a deep breath; releases it slowly. “…Sorry,” she mumbles, when the pause stretches on. “That’s the most I’ve said, like, all week.”

Lizzie laughs quietly. “Totally understandable,” she says, and Gigi feels something like a weight lift off her shoulders; she hadn’t realised how much she needed someone to tell her she wasn’t being pathetic until right now. “When I was shadowing Pemberley, that was the first time had my own place, too, and it was _so weird,_ even though I had Mrs Gardiner taking me out to dinner, and you were so sweet to show me around and invite me out to places – and it was _San Francisco_ , I could always find something to do…I can imagine it’s a lot different in a small town.”

“Right,” Gigi nods, her voice thin. “Yeah. Everyone knows each other, and it’s great, I can go to Clara’s craft nights or Ed’s movie showings and find people to talk to, but it’s…”

“Like being the new kid at school,” Lizzie fills in, and Gigi heaves a sigh of relief. Yeah, that’s _exactly_ what it’s like.

“Like being the new kid,” she agrees. “And when there’s no dance to go to, or like – a football game, or a bake sale, or something – I don’t really know where to…Start.”

Lizzie hums, sounding sympathetic. “Okay,” she says quietly, like she’s thinking about something. “Here’s what we’re going to do.”

They discuss plans for another twenty minutes, until Gigi’s finished her glass of wine and her calendar app is full of notes like _lunch with Clara_ and _go to beach_ and _have dinner party_.

“You don’t have to do all of it,” Lizzie reminds her, when Gigi starts sounding overwhelmed. “Just…make some calls, okay? I saw some of the Domino stuff, I bet Clara would love to hang out with you.”

“Yeah,” Gigi says, with a small smile. “I’ll ask around.”

“Making plans is always tricky,” Lizzie adds; clearly, she’s not quite done dispensing sisterly wisdom. “ _Especially_ if there’s not, like, an event to plan for. But once you make the first move, people are going to start to respond.”

“I know,” Gigi says quietly. “Thanks, Lizzie.”

“Not a problem,” Lizzie says, for what is probably the tenth time. “Stop thanking me! I’m glad you called! But…”

“Lizzie – “

“ _But_ you should call Will tomorrow. Just to talk!” Lizzie adds quickly, when Gigi starts to protest; she really, _really_ doesn’t want William to worry. “He misses you, too.”

Gigi pulls a face; but, honestly, she’d really like to talk to her big brother. “Fine,” she says eventually, smiling when she hears Lizzie’s sigh of relief. “ _Just_ to talk. I don’t want him to think I need help, or that I need him to come take _care_ of me. He’s done that enough.”

“ _Gigi_ ,” Lizzie says, sounding exasperated. “As another older sibling, I can tell you right now that Will is never going to have taken _enough_ care of you.”

 _That’s the point,_ Gigi feels like telling her, but knows it’s pointless; Lizzie isn’t going to budge on this. And, no matter how guilty she’d feel for dragging William away from work and friends (and _Lizzie_ ), if he showed up tomorrow with a packed lunch and his schedule cleared for the weekend, Gigi…would get mad, and then hug him, and probably cry.

“I’ll call him,” she compromises. “I swear. Thanks, Lizzie.”

“It’s _fine_ ,” Lizzie says again. “Call me whenever, too, okay? Now go get something to eat.”

“Pizza’s already on its way,” Gigi grins. “Domino has my order memorised.”

“Of course it does.”

They chat for a few more minutes after that, until Lizzie suddenly starts sounding distracted, and Gigi hears an all-too familiar voice in the background; clearly, William’s still keeping even later hours than she is. She presses the phone closer to her cheek almost on instinct, listening to the sound of her brother’s indistinct mumbling and feeling her chest constrict with a kind of fierce, not-quite-sad emotion.

Maybe she _will_ call him tomorrow.

*

The weekend passes in a strange mix of nerve-wracking phone calls; first to Clara, who immediately agrees to a Sunday lunch, then to Ed, who invites her over for a Star Wars night, and then – after three movies and an ungodly amount of popcorn – to William, who sounds suspiciously _prepared_ to deal with her stubborn brand of asking for help. _Damn that traitorous Bennet._

Still, it’s good to talk; and it’s not like she’d really expected Lizzie to hide their conversation from William. They chat about work, and life; she fills him in on some of the developments in Sanditon, and he artfully dodges questions about his relationship with Lizzie. Some things never change.

What with one thing or another, suddenly it’s Sunday night, and Gigi’s cleaning the kitchen, humming along to Ke$ha; it’s late, and she’s verging on more-than-a-little-tipsy after the two bottles of wine she got through with the Griffiths. She’s not sure they’re _friends_ , exactly – there were a few awkward pauses, and nothing like the immediate easy friendship she’s found with Clara, and by extension Ed – but she’s glad she invited them over, anyway, if only to clear the air and put all the Domino-related drama behind them. And it’s like Lizzie told her; she’s made three plans this weekend, and has already received several more invitations for the coming week.

Maybe she can make this work; maybe moving here, and forging her own roots, won’t turn out to be as difficult as it had seemed two days ago.

***

When her alarm blares her out of a restless dream, Gigi only groans and switches it off; ten minutes later, it goes off again, and she struggles into an upright position.

_Okay, Darcy. Shower. Clothes. Coffee. You know the drill._

It’s not until she’s resting her forehead against the windowpane, waiting for the coffee machine to beep, that Gigi recalls one small, but significant, detail; a detail that should really have factored into the epic planning session with Lizzie, now that she comes to think of it.

A glance at the wall calendar is enough to confirm it –

_September 2. Labor Day. No work!!!!_

After her coffee is done, Gigi practically _dances_ back to bed, and settles in for a long, lazy morning.

*

By the time she heads out – swimsuit optimistically on under her clothes as if she’s actually considering swimming – it’s going on for noon, and the streets are packed. The novelty of living in a seaside town hasn’t quite worn off yet, and Gigi finds herself smiling widely at the families enjoying a last get-away before school starts, at the kids fighting over ice creams and plastic buckets, at the couples self-consciously holding hands and window-shopping.

When Gigi reaches Sanditon Scoops, she’s momentarily thrown by the banners and streamers; then she remembers, this is _Clara_ , of course she’s taken the opportunity to throw a party.

“Gigi!” Clara calls, waving to her from behind the counter. “Hey, over here, try this!”

“Hi, Clara,” Gigi laughs, making her way over and taking the proffered sampling spoon. “Oh, _wow_ ,what is that?”

“Strawberries and fresh mint,” Clara says proudly. “Good, right?”

“Amazing,” Gigi smiles. “The place looks awesome, too!”

“Ed helped decorate,” Clara says, and Gigi doesn’t miss the blush that rises to her friend’s cheeks; she smirks, and Clara rolls her eyes. “It was nice of him to offer!”

“Sure, sure,” Gigi nods, her eyes wide and innocent; Clara just swats a hand at her shoulder, then slides a full strawberry-and-mint sundae over the counter.

“On the house,” she says firmly, when Gigi goes to get out her wallet. “No, don’t argue.”

Gigi’s halfway through the sundae when there’s a commotion at the front door; out of the corner of her eye, she sees a whole family of redheads pauses at the entrance, and then she hears a vaguely-familiar voice ask if anyone can see a free table –

And _then_ she hears a definitely-familiar voice say her name, and her heart drops to her stomach.

Lizzie and William. Two sisters she’s never met, but seen plenty of – Jane, and Lydia, and standing next to them is – _Fitz._ They’re all crowded into a narrow space between the door and the first row of tables, and by the time she actually manages to process that fact they’ve spotted her.

“Gigi D!” Fitz calls out, his voice loud and warm – and that’s all it takes before Gigi is jumping out of her chair and barrelling towards him for a hug. His arms fit around her, his chin brushing the top of her head, his shirt rough and clean-smelling against her cheek when she presses her face against his chest. By the time she pulls away, her eyes are wet.

“Fitz,” she manages, with a small hiccup. “What… What are you _doing_ here?” Rounding on the others, but fixing Lizzie with an especially sharp stare, she adds, “ _All_ of you?”

“We all had the day off work,” Lizzie shrugs, feigning ignorance. “Thought we could do with a day at the beach.”

“ _Right,_ ” Gigi raises an eyebrow, but she’s too busy smiling to really be mad; William is hovering awkwardly, and she dodges around Lizzie to pull him into a tight hug. “Oh, god, it’s good to see you.”

“You too, Gigi,” he mumbles, his hand stroking her shoulder gently. “I’ve missed you.”

“You too,” Gigi whispers, giving him a small, private smile; then she turns to Lizzie, and gestures to the other Bennets. “Hi! I’m Gigi!”

Jane smiles warmly, offering a hand to shake. “It’s so good to meet you,” she says, with what sounds like genuine happiness. “I’m Jane, I’m Lizzie’s older sister.”

“She knows, Jane,” Lydia says quietly, and _right,_ okay, that’s not exactly a warm smile. Gigi hesitates, then offers her hand anyway.

“Lydia, right?”

Lydia raises an eyebrow. “Right,” she echoes. Lizzie nudges her, and she takes Gigi’s hand for the briefest of moments before dropping it and looking around the store. “So, is there some place to sit, or…?”

“Oh!” Gigi nods, slightly erratically, feeling absurdly like a deer in headlights – she looks around, but there really doesn’t seem to be an empty table. “Hey, have you guys seen the beach yet? Why don’t we get ice cream to go and head down there?”

“Sounds great,” Lizzie smiles encouragingly, and Gigi doesn’t miss the warning glance she shoots at Lydia. “Lead the way.”

They end up spending most of the day at the beach; William’s car is packed full of beach gear, from volleyballs to towels and a cooler full of sodas and beers (although those _definitely_ weren’t his idea). Gigi lets the sun warm her shoulders, and leans against William’s shoulder while Fitz tells her all about Fiji, and Jane flips through fashion magazines, and Lizzie busies herself passing out drinks and snacks, telling everyone off for letting her do all the serving but _clearly_ loving having them all there in one place.

Lydia sits next to Lizzie on her own towel, sunglasses in place, fingers constantly tapping at her phone; Gigi wonders if she should try to make small talk. Every time she accidentally makes eye contact, though, Lydia shoots her what can only be described as a _glare_ and resolutely turns back to her phone. Not that Gigi can blame her; it’s beyond weird, this collision of past and present. _Not_ that they’re the same person, not that the way things played out were really similar in any way, but… There’s a sharpness to all of Lydia’s gestures, and _of course_ she’s seen the Pemberley videos (and it’s not like Gigi didn’t go back and watch all of Lydia’s, in a haze of masochistic curiosity). They both know that they both _know,_ and that was never going to be a fun place to start from.

*

“I’m going for a swim,” Lydia announces suddenly, getting to her feet and shrugging off her shorts. Gigi watches her adjust the strap of her bikini top, throat dry. Lizzie’s in the middle of a story about an awful dinner at some awful restaurant, but the conversation pauses for a  moment as Lydia turns her back on them all and walks – no, _struts,_ uncannily reminiscent of her 14-year old self – off towards the shore.

“Hold on,” Gigi finds herself calling. “I – I could do with cooling off.”

Lydia pauses, but doesn’t turn around. “Cool.”

Gigi gets to her feet, only a little unsteady; William is watching her carefully, but she forces herself not to pause as she toes off her sandals and undoes the zips in her dress. The swimsuit she’s wearing is piped with blue-and-white stripes, and it’s not exactly the most flattering item she’s ever owned – but she’d pulled it on this morning in a fit of spontaneity, and now she’s glad.

“Anyone else?” she asks, turning to the group; her voice is high and a little thin, but she thinks her smile is wide enough to mask it. “No? Okay!”

And, swallowing back the waves of sea-sickness rolling through her stomach, she sets off after Lydia.

The first couple of steps into the water are quick, easily done – she takes it in a running start, and is in up to her hips before she can think too much of it – and then Gigi freezes, all her sudden bravery running out.

Lydia’s treading water a little further out, her eyes fixed on Gigi, like she’s waiting to see what she’ll do. Vaguely, Gigi is aware of Lizzie, and William, and Fitz, and Jane – even Jane, who might not have known every detail of the car crash that was George Wickham, but must by now have picked up on the big picture – they’re all watching her, all on tenterhooks. Gigi’s never felt more exposed. Talking to a camera had been…different. Easier, somehow, than this, this so very _public_ show of proving something to herself.

“Hey,” Lydia says suddenly, straightening up out of the water and jolting Gigi out of her frozen inertia. “You don’t have to, like…”

“What?” Gigi says sharply, lifting her chin slightly, and then feels bad when Lydia flinches. “Sorry.”

“It’s –“ Lydia shrugs, and hugs her arms to her body. “Whatever. I know Lizzie and Darce really, _really_ want us to be friends, but we don’t have to _bond_ over –“

”No,” Gigi shakes her head. “I know that. And I thought _you_ were just going for a swim.”

“I – “ Lydia hesitates. “Okay, yeah, dick move. Wanted to see what you’d do.”

“It’s been years, since…” Gigi bits her tongue, then presses on. “Since George and I were involved.” She doesn’t pretend not to stumble over the name, but Lydia ignores it, just as Gigi ignores her responding flinch.

“Yeah,” Lydia nods. “Right. Just, like. You didn’t have to come after me to prove a point, or – whatever.”

“I know.”

There’s a long, uncomfortable pause.

Then Gigi takes a deep breath, and forces a smile. “No .You know what? It’s been _years,_ and I really, _really_ miss swimming.”

Lydia laughs, a little shakily; she takes a few steps backwards and shrugs in what Gigi can only take as a challenging manner. When Gigi smiles at her, she returns it, and for the first time, Gigi thinks she’s seeing the Lydia who really _isn’t_ all that different to her – the younger sister, the runaway, the girl who was so, _so_ ready to love someone, anyone… Dimly, she’s still aware of both their families’ watchful gaze, but somehow, it doesn’t matter quite so much anymore.

Gigi closes her eyes, and dives.


End file.
